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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850190">See What I Can Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaintlyMacabre/pseuds/FaintlyMacabre'>FaintlyMacabre</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Faintly Does Kinktober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming Untouched, Exhibitionism, I mean that's it. That's the fic, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Peter Nureyev, Voyeurism, i wrote this in a fugue state, when does this take place? how should I know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:34:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaintlyMacabre/pseuds/FaintlyMacabre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Nureyev does not exist on Mars, broadly speaking. More specifically, Peter Nureyev exists in exactly one place on Mars: a tiny, nondescript apartment in Hyperion City—and wouldn't you know it, he happens to be heading there right now for a visit. </p>
<p>Now, does the <i>occupant</i> of said apartment know he's dropping by?</p>
<p>Eh, details.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Faintly Does Kinktober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>See What I Can Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Good grief, I was trying to keep these under a thousand words. </p>
<p>Proctor voice: <i>The muse cannot be tamed!!</i></p>
<p>See end notes for warnings (they're a little spoilery and not hardcore but if you have literally any concerns about the tags, please check the end notes and take care of yourself!)</p>
<p>Oh, here's a warning that has like nothing to do with the plot: someone spends a long time on a fire escape. They are fine the whole time, but if that stresses you out, totally understand!</p>
<p>Heeeeere we go!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter Nureyev doesn’t get smug about his skills. Peter Nureyev doesn’t exist, after all, certainly not on Mars, so how could he possibly be smug about the ease with which he scales, for example, an old, definitely not up-to-code fire escape in Hyperion City? If anyone asked, he would be compelled to tell them that it truly is literally all in a day’s work for a thief of his caliber. Not that they could ask, because Peter Nureyev does not exist on Mars.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except in one place. A single apartment in a nondescript building, full of apartments that all look the same. Coincidentally, that’s exactly where he’s headed right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He counts the floors as he passes. It takes hardly any time at all for him to reach the fifth. There’s a light on in the window that he’s climbing toward; perhaps not ideal, but he’ll know exactly what he’s going into. Just the one light on in the apartment, it looks like, so not a party. Ordinarily, he’d prefer to show up when the occupant is out, as company is hardly welcome in his line of work. But tonight, he is not here to steal anything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, he’ll keep his options open.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Colored light bounces over the room in no apparent pattern, and Nureyev pauses to confirm that… yes, that'll just be a television. There’s a warm orange glow there too, stationary—probably a lamp rather than an overhead light—it seems too weak, otherwise. Some faint, unintelligible sounds come through the glass; those are probably the television as well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So. He’s home. And he’s in that room. Nureyev knows how good Juno is with a gun, so his gamble—that Juno’s blaster is not within arm’s reach or at least that Juno will be able to recognize his surprise guest before he’s able to <em>shoot</em> his surprise guest—had really better pay off. Certainly, he could go in through the door, but there are too many cameras that way and this is faster. He does not consider the possibility that Juno will not want visitors. That Juno will not want <em>him</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He knows what he knows, and he knows that Juno is looking forward to this meeting as much as he is. Juno just doesn’t know it’s happening now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He waits for a few long minutes with his back pressed to the wall, breathing deeply, getting used to the way sound and the wind hit him here and the metal grating under his feet. Finally, he’s satisfied and peers into the window to get the lay of the land.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At first, he thinks Juno is having a nightmare, that that’s the reason his eyes are screwed shut and he’s panting into the air while he lies on the couch. A mere moment of observation tells him that he’s an idiot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Juno’s got one hand shoved down his pants while the other hand works them open. Nureyev knows he shouldn’t look, should at the <em>very</em> least turn away and lean against the wall until Juno’s done, but decades of opportunistic habits are hard to fight at the best of times. And now? Looking away now would certainly <em>not</em> appear in a list of “Peter Nureyev’s best times.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So he presses himself to the wall, trying to stay invisible, as Juno takes himself out with a groan. Some of the sounds he heard a few seconds ago must not have been the television, then. He’s not completely hard yet, but he’s making short work of the task. Not that “short” is a descriptor that belongs anywhere near this scenario. Nureyev bites his lip to try to keep himself from making a sound. Juno seems completely unconcerned with this, moaning and gasping as he strokes himself to full hardness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nureyev’s wet, undeniably and inconveniently so. He could (should) slink off to somewhere more private to take care of his problem, but he becomes less and less willing to look away with each passing moment. Juno fucks his fist, thrusting up on the downstroke. He looks desperate, and Nureyev wonders how long he’s gone without taking care of himself, or without someone else taking care of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Who was the last person to touch Juno Steel? Did they make it good for him? Did they hold him down and fuck him the way he likes? Or maybe it was a quick, anonymous encounter, just inside the door of his apartment or some darkened alley. Maybe Juno got on his knees for them, barely mindful of the cold pavement under him. Maybe they pressed themselves against his side and jerked him off while they rubbed off on his hip. Maybe they spun him around and fucked his thighs, allowing him no more than the lightest of touches until he begged for it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please,” he hears, and he thinks he’s imagining it until he hears it again. “Please, let me, I need to come.” Juno’s moving his hand faster now, with less of a rhythm. “Fuck, I’m so close, I need it.” Nureyev feels like he’s burning up, about to watch Juno get himself off on his couch, when Juno says, “Nureyev.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Nureyev startles, but Juno isn’t looking at him. “Nureyev,” he says again, “I’m so fucking close, let me come.” This may be more than he can take. Nureyev presses his thighs together, wishing that if he couldn’t be a man of greater self-control, that he could at least be in a position where he didn’t need it. Like inside that apartment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck, Nureyev, I’m almost there,” Juno moans, and Nureyev needs to put a gloved hand over his own mouth to keep from moaning, too. Juno's cock is so flushed and hard that it really can’t be long before he comes all over himself. Nureyev wants to be the one to make that happen, but god, if this isn’t the next best thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He presses his thighs tighter together as Juno pumps himself frantically. “Just—need—a little—more—I’m—<em>fuck!</em>” Juno crumples in on himself, coming all over his hand and the undershirt and pants he didn’t bother taking off. He keeps pulling on his cock, working himself through his orgasm, and at a particularly rough moan, Nureyev loses it. He comes untouched, catching himself on the wall as his legs give out. Luckily, he manages to keep his feet as the waves of his orgasm rush over him. Unluckily, this means his mouth is unobstructed as he moans, “<em>Juno.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His head clears immediately when he realizes what he’s done, even as he feels his dick still pulsing and the wetness on his thighs. It’s an odd feeling, as though some of his body is stuck 30 seconds in the past. There’s no more time to think about it now as the window opens.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Babe?” Juno says. “You all right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m—hah,” Nureyev says, intelligently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How did you like the show?” Juno says, a very particular mix of smug and unsure. He's cleaned himself up and looks much more functional than Nureyev feels when offers a hand out the window. Nureyev’s still shaking as he lets Juno help him down. “Are you—did you come out there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not on purpose,” Nureyev says with a little laugh. “Which should tell you something about how much I liked the ‘show.’ You were breathtaking, love.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>You</em> were late.” He jabs a finger into Nureyev’s chest, gently. “I accidentally edged myself for half an hour! I’ve never noticed how much this goddamn fire escape creaks in the wind before tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, no, I’m so sorry.” He is, but he can’t quite help but be amused and enchanted by the look on Juno’s face. “Traffic was horrendous, I got here as soon as I could.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I know you did.” Juno kisses him for several long moments before pulling away. “You really got off just from watching me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did,” Nureyev says, feeling his face heat up a little more. “It’s rare, but I can come untouched. But as spectacular as getting to watch you was, I was rather looking forward to having your hands on me, as well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Were you?” Juno says, furrowing his brow in a parody of serious consideration as he starts undoing the buttons on Nureyev’s shirt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you’d be so kind,” Nureyev says, his voice going a little breathy when Juno gives up on the buttons and roughly untucks his shirt. Juno holds his gaze as he unbuckles Nureyev's belt and pulls it clean out of the belt loops.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll see what I can do.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: For most of the fic, it is not clear that Juno knows Nureyev is watching him and this is something they've worked out in advance, but he is and it is. That's about that!</p>
<p>Thank you so much for reading! As a great person I know has said on many occasions, "If you liked it, tell your friends. If you didn't like it, tell your enemies."</p></blockquote></div></div>
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